Silence isn't as Golden as it Seems
by TheMasterOfYourFate
Summary: The Doctor is acting abnormally. Even for him. He won't speak to the Master, hasn't made a peep since he had found him. The longer he goes without speaking, the more the Master is getting aggravated. AU Universe Doctor/Master
1. Chapter 1

**Silence isn't as golden as it seems:**

The Doctor...is different than what he remembers. Very, very different. He's less-soft. Maybe that's the word. And, well, he's regenerated as well. He doesn't look like much. Just some tall, gangly idiot, that wears a bow tie-Stupid, fucking bow tie. It makes him look idiotic.

Also:

He hasn't spoken a word to the Master since he's imprisoned him. He had guided him into the TARDIS, slight frown on his face, and had almost roughly pushed him into the jump chair-He loses his spot in his brilliant rant-and looks perturbed-But quickly finds his place again, as he sneers, and makes jeers at the Doctor. Still, he does not speak.

This goes on for a good hour, before he realizes, disappointingly, that no, the Doctor wasn't going to speak to him. He's been handcuffed to the console, with little give on his side, and he sits in the jump chair, watching him, tilting his head. Something is different. But what? He seems...less pleased with him, of course, but he isn't reacting to his jeers. The Doctor is just staring at the console, slightly fiddling with the controls, but staying silent. What was going on?

Finally the Doctor looks up, at the sound of him tapping his fingers on the console, and he looks pained, watching him drum against it. He smirks, and opens his mouth, but is surprised when the Doctor just strolls past him.

"Oi! Get back here, and face me like the Time Lord you claim to be!"

...He doesn't.

He's left in the console room. By himself. Handcuffed.

Huh.

...

**Day 1:**

He's found out, pretty quickly, that the Doctor has made the handcuffs isomorphic. He can't get out of them. Now he's pretty pissed. The Doctor comes back, the next day-he stays away for about eight hours-and goes to the console, without a word.

"Couldn't stay away from me, now, could you?" He taunts him, stretching slightly, leaning over the console. He doesn't reply. He scowls, and leans closer-The Doctor is on the other side of the console, now, so it's pretty hard. "Idiot. Listen to me." His demand seems to have fallen on deaf ears. He keeps taunting him, though. He's stubborn, and won't quit till he wins. The other Time Lord seems to know that, though. He stays insanely quiet, doing Gallifrey knows what. But the Master spends most of the day, persitent in getting the Doctor to speak.

He fails.

**Day 2-4:**

He's getting aggravated.

He's tried almost everything to get him to speak. He's brought up Gallifrey, called him a traitor, a genocidal bastard. He's lamented on their childhood, called him name, after name, and one incident, he screamed at him till his throat was raw. But the Doctor took it in silence. He flinches when Gallifrey is brought up, but that's pretty much the extent to his reaction. He sits there, and takes it. Silent as a mouse.

Once he had gotten tired, and was batting at the control on the console, just to aggravate him to speak-He was surprised. The Doctor stopped fiddling with whatever he was fiddling with, got up, and went over to him, and firmly took his hands, and moves them away. It's the first time he's made contact with him since he fetched him from the wasteland.

He looks at him sternly, not saying a word-but it sends a chill down his spine. Then he slowly walks back to where he was, and goes back to what he was doing.

He doesn't touch the console, after that incident. But his attempts to make him talk increases for a couple days. He wants to be touched again. But he was too...nervous to do the same thing.

**Day 20:**

This was getting aggravating. But he could play at the other Time Lord's game. He didn't need to speak, either. Once he realized he was just as determined, the Doctor would break, and beg to hear the sound of his voice. He could do this.

...Maybe.

**Day 30:**

Apparently, he's been granted the permission to have a room. He's unlocked from his place at the console, and he's taken to a room. It has bars-It's basically a cell, with a bed, and a chair. But it has a bed, and he's been getting a kink in his back from sleeping in that chair. He doesn't mention this to the Doctor of course, but he really doesn't get the chance to talk to him, because he's directed to the bed, and subtly, by his glance, he's implying to get some sleep.

The Master sleeps on the floor that night just to spite him.

**Day 50:**

Silence reigns in the console room now. There's a routine now. The Doctor comes to the console room, after retrieving him from his room, and doing whatever he had been doing, and sometimes he brings food with him.

At first he refuses to eat it, but after a few attempts the Doctor gets that look on his face, and he places the food in front of him, and he just...looks at him sternly. He doesn't want to do it-but something in that look..._spooks_ him, and he's quite hungry anyways. So, he takes a couple bites. The relief in the Doctor's face doesn't make him eat the rest. Not at all.

**Day 120:**

He doesn't understand how this happens. It was a regular day. The Doctor had settled into his normal routine, and they are both silent, the Master picking at his food, and nothing unusual happens.

But when the Doctor goes to take him back to his cell-he doesn't...He directs him to the other hallway, and lets him follow him. He does, curiously, and he's lead to what he assumes is the Doctor's room.

The Doctor doesn't acknowledge his presence, just gets ready for bed, and slips into bed, without a glance in his direction.

It's really confusing.

So, he just stands there, and after awhile, he hesitantly assumes that he's allowed to sleep by him-The bed looks way comfier than his, at least. But he's bristling by the fact that he's treating him like a pet. He stops when he feels how comfy the bed is. He tentatively sinks into it, staying very, very far away from the Doctor.

When he wakes up, the Doctor is already awake, and somehow in his sleep he's moved over towards the Doctor, and he's curled around him. The Doctor has a sleepy grin on his face. He's smoothing one hand down the base of his spine, and one is petting his hair, trying to be soothing, he supposed. Something's...wrong. He doesn't know what, but something's wrong with his head. It feels surprisingly okay-And there is a bit of fuzziness, gaps in places that he can't remember having gaps in. He doesn't want to think about it, so he doesn't.

After blinking up at him, confused, he extracts himself from the Doctor, scowling.

The Doctor looks at him sadly, but-

_He still doesn't speak. _

**Day 175:**

It goes on like that for a spattering of days. (He still wakes up in the Doctor's arms, and he still has a feeling, growing in increasing alarm that he's missing something, bigger, and bigger each day. The Doctor sometimes wakes him up, by kissing his forehead-But he doesn't stay in his arms. He...he's forgot why he doesn't, but he knows he can't stay in his arms.)

They have a routine. It's slightly nice. They hardly speak, unless he has a bad day, and screams at him. But those happen infrequently, and when that happens he's not allowed back in the Doctor's room until he has a good day-(Good day, he's figured out is being quiet, eating what he's given, and not yelling. He has an inkling that the Doctor is trying to condition him-and he rebels against that at first-But he likes the Doctor's bed-and he doesn't like the look the Doctor gives him, when he has a bad day. So, he usually has good days.)

The Drums get bad, one day. Really bad. Can't think bad. So, as a result, he's even quieter than usual, and he rejects the food the Doctor gives him, pushing it away from him, and scowling.

He then proceeds to makes even more than a fuss than usual. Screams at him, yells, shouts. It's not a good day. Not at all. The Doctor still doesn't say anything, but he frowns deeply, and shoots him a glance. It promises things.

He doesn't pay heed to it.

The Doctor reacts to this by putting him back in his cell room.

**Day 179:**

He's had three bad days, in a row now. He won't eat, won't sleep, and he refuses to stop screaming. He's beating out the drum beat now, scowling, and he's intent to make the Doctor talk again.

He doesn't notice when the Doctor goes up to him, but he does feel his hands slide across his shoulder-touch, he's touching him-but he continues snarling at him, determined to make him speak-The touch is stern, tightening to hurt slightly, and he positions himself in front of him, squeezing his shoulders painfully. The Doctor frowns at him, and speaks for the first time he's been there-

"Stop, Koschei. Just _stop_."

He falls silent, going still. His eyes are slightly wide, and he wasn't prepared for words. The Doctors voice isn't rough at all-like it should have been. It sounded like he thought it would have. It calms him slightly, but also terrifies him. It's not just the Doctor-it's the oncoming storm. He's angry-and he wants him to stop. And for some reason, he does.

The Doctor eyes him, slightly, and nods, obviously pleased. He runs a hand through the Master's hair, thoughtlessly, and allows a grin to tug at his lips. He doesn't speak again, but he stays there, with the Master staring at him, confused, for a couple minutes, almost petting him.

After that, he gets up, wiping his hands on his trousers, and goes to do whatever he usually does-The Master doesn't particularly care, really. He can never see over the console. He's still confused about what happened, but he's chosen to ignore it, and how the Doctor had spoken.

He doesn't have another day as bad as those four, though.

**Day 365:**

He wakes up, and the Doctor is hovering over him. He can feel something pressing against his thigh, and he looks up at him, brow furrowed-But he doesn't get a chance to voice anything. He's pulled into a firm kiss, and kisses back hesitantly, shyly, almost.

The Doctor pulls back from the kiss, with a pop, and grins at him, ruffling his hair. He feels quite confused-A state that he's doomed, it seems, to stay in forever-And he cups his cheek with a grin.

It seems to go downhill from there-Or uphill. It depends on your perspective.

Soon enough, he's writhing underneath the Doctor, staying silent, but only just barely. He seems to know just the right place to touch-The right place to make him squirm. Every sensitive place he has-even the ones he didn't even know he had-he had found, and was using to his advantage. The Doctor had long ago stripped both of them from their clothes, and it seemed like he was just teasing him now, bringing him to the edge of pleasure, and then stopping.

He's trembling, and shaking, as the Doctor finally, _finally_ lifts his legs, and slips them over his shoulders. But he's silent as he does this. Looking at him intently, and not saying a word. A feeling of wrongness settles in the pit of his stomach, and he swallows slightly. He tries to make his tone harsh, but it comes out sounding slightly lost.

"Doctor-Why-What are you-" He doesn't finish his sentence, as he silences him, by positioning himself, and pushing in-and his thoughts are now all jumbled, and he can't think. All that he feels is the pulses of pleasure, and a low moan slips from his lips, head tilted back, and he sounds so disgusting. So, so, needy.

But-he's pressed against him, and it's nice, and he can't find it inside himself to protest. No, not at all-But he's the Master-he's supposed to be doing this. But-it feel good. And he's inside him, filling him so sweetly, and he's full, but it aches-so, so horribly.

He grasps at the sheets, and looks up at him, slightly confused. "Doctor-?" He's still, horribly still, as if he's waiting for something. Confusin flickers on the Master's face-and as weird as this is, it's good, and it's right. But he won't fucking move. The Doctor's face is like stone. It's blank, and it's drinking in the Master's facial expressions quietly, like he wanted him to do something-

It clicks in his head, quickly, and he tries to scowl. The Doctor wanted him to agree-Wanted to give him confirmation-Well, fuck him-he wasn't giving him a reason to feel better about himself-He's hard. So, so hard. And it hurts. And the Doctor shifts slightly, not even a millimeter, but it's enough to make him shift, and he lets out a low moan, gritting his teeth.

"I hate you-" He starts in-almost frustrated enough to sob, and he does-"I hate you _so much_. Why can't you just die-Why don't you just go away?" He just doesn't want to feel this way. He doesn't want to feel empty again. But he knows that the Doctor will get tired of him, leave him to die-But why doesn't he just get it over with, instead of leading him on?

The Doctor leans against him, letting him scream at him, and then smoothly presses his lips against the shell of his ear. "Are you quite done, Koschei?" He hears this, spoken softly, against his ear. He stills. Done what? Done yelling, and kicking, and screaming. Of course not. He'd never be done-

But he's lying. He wants to be done. He's tired of pushing, and pushing, and not getting anything in return. He wants him. He wants him so badly. And he's tired of fighting him. Tired of everything. He feels all the fight drain from him, all at once. And it's one the first things he's said in months. It's welcomed sorely, even if it was a reprimand and he presses closer to him, nodding.

"Use your words."

"Yes, Thete. Yes, yes, yes. I'm done-I'll stop."

He feels Thete's lips curl upward, and he shifts slightly, making the Master moan-"Good boy."

And for some, horrible, horrible reason, he's pleased as well. He wants to be good. He wants to be good for Thete. So, he nods, trying to hold onto him, trying to get him to press closer to him. "Yes. Good. I'll be good for you, Thete." He rocks into him, trying to get friction, pressure, anything-

"Oh, yes, you're my good boy-" Thete says, kissing his neck-"You're being very, very good. "There's a low chuckle in his ear, and he rocks into him experimentally, and he gets a low moan in response.

"Now-be even more good for me-hmm?-Make even more of those pretty noises, and I'll reward you." He nods fervently, moaning loudly. This-this is what he wants. To please Theta. To please him. And he hoped that he was doing just that.

He doesn't last all that long though. Especially when Thete reaches between them, and strokes him firmly, from tip to base-He cums with a cry, screaming Thete's name, gripping at Thete's shoulder-And his vision blurs-

And it's weird, he feels that soothing sensation in his mind, Thete reaching out to him mentally, and soothing a large part of his mind asleep-It doesn't hurt, no, but it's quite weird. But he quickly forgets-because it's gone in a flash, and of course he can't remember something that's been taken from him. But chunks are missing now-Something is gone, but he doesn't know what it was, or where it's gone to.

He doesn't think he blacks out, but the next thing he knows he's pulled across Theta's chest, and he's blinking sleepily. He looks up at him, and frowns, opening his mouth to ask what happened but he's stroked soothingly, and shushed.

"Don't speak. I've got you." So, he quiets down, still slightly confused, but feels safe in Thete's arms. Thete seems to be rambling, and he's hardly listening-"We're back where we're supposed to be-Isn't that amazing, Koschei?" He drowsily, but enthusiastically agrees, and he gets an amused hair ruffle in return.

"Of course you agree. You're my sweet, good boy-" He never would have described himself as sweet, before, but he doesn't protest it, not at all. He doesn't know why he doesn't, but it just seems like the best thing to do, really. So, he just makes himself comfortable, pressing closer to Thete. "Love you, Thete-" He mumbles, not knowing why he did it-Why shouldn't he? It just felt natural. It was the truth as well-He feels Theta freeze for a moment, before his forehead is kissed, and his hair smoothed back. "I know Koschei. I know. I love you, too."

He's delighted by that statement. Very, very delighted. He grins widely into Thete's chest. He's happy. Thete love him, and he was in Thete's arms. What more could he ask for?


	2. Ashen

Theta had finally, _finally_, let him go on an adventure with him. It was going to be a simple trip-and he was excited. Very, very excited. Earth! He had heard stories from Thete, and he was genuinely happy to be going. More so that he wanted to be with Theta.

He always sulked when Theta left without him. Thete had him placated by kissing his forehead, and promising that he could go soon. Now it was his turn to go with Theta. Not his companions, or the humans that he had every so often-He didn't like them so much, when Thete had a companion he couldn't come out of his cell, and only saw him sparingly. He had learned to hate when companions came, and he was thrilled that Thete was companion-less, at the moment. "Okay." Thete says quietly, but warmly. He looks nervous for some reason, so he smiles at him reassuringly. Thete pulls at his bow tie, and then straightens it out. "We're going out there, in a few minutes. So, I need you to listen to me." He tells him, leaning in front of him, hands grasping his shoulders.

He nods, quiet, and listens to his instructions-But he's mostly thinking about what he's going to see. He's quite excited. Very, very excited. He doesn't like the Doctor's companions, but he may like the others…Maybe. He was trying to be optimistic. When Theta is finally done with his instructions he grips his hands, and guides him out to Earth, with a broad, albeit slightly hesitant smile.

Not that he had anything to be scared about. Koschei reacted exactly how he wanted him to. He was amazed, and wondered, and he loved it. It was pretty much a perfect day-

But something goes wrong when they are down on Earth. Someone knows him. Thete is in the middle of explaining something to him, and he hears the blast from a gun-a shot, he means, a shot-And he feels a burning pain, and he's attacked from all sides.

He doesn't remember much of what happens, but he does remember blacking out.

He wakes up to Thete's face.

Thete's face is ashen with worry, blood drained from his face-He cups his face, and searches his eyes, shaking him slightly. He groans, the cut on his head throbbing, and the shallow cuts everywhere else aching. He has a big ache in his side-Most likely where the bullet landed, but it seems like it didn't hit any major organs.

Theta sees he's awake, and assesses his wounds quickly, before hauling him up. He hisses, but tries to get up by himself. His head is spinning, and he can't think-the next few hours come in flashes for him-

_Thete carrying him into the TARDIS-_

_Hearing curses-_

_And waking up every so often. _

When he finally comes to, Theta isn't there. He woke up in his cell, hooked up to a machine that makes beeping noise-Monitoring his heart, he thinks. But he couldn't be sure. He doesn't move from his spot-He's sleepy, and tired still, so he goes back to sleep, and waits for Theta to come get him.

He doesn't think about why he was in the cell, until he realizes that Theta might not be coming back to get him.

—

When Theta does come back…he's mad. He doesn't say anything to him, but that's it. Theta isn't saying anything. And that confuses him. He hadn't done anything, has he? He only was quiet when he was mad at him.

He doesn't want to make him even more angrier by asking, so he doesn't. Theta spends a short time in his cell with him, and then he leaves, locking him in there.

Koschei feels...abandoned.

—

Everything is burning, aching, coiling inside-He's spreading him out painfully, but like he said, this was a mercy-He could have taken him dry, could have taken him without _any_ lube. He was lucky he had used what he had, and was preparing him-Because he was his. Koschei was Theta's, and he could use him how he liked.

Theta gets tired of that, quickly-He's been getting more, and more impatient with him, after the accident-and removes his fingers roughly. He grunts, as he slides in him, and Koschei takes a deep, surprised breath, shifting on the bed. He's on his stomach, and Thete's taking him from behind. (Which is weird, because _before_ Thete never liked that. He always liked to see his face-This difference makes him queasy, and confused. He didn't like changes, and this was a _big_ change-)

Theta doesn't take pity on his discomfort, and why should he? He doesn't have any reason to. He rocks into him harshly, Koschei gripping at the sheets tightly, trying not to whimper from the pain.

He can't take much more-He's already sore from yesterday, and with him taking him so roughly, it's making him even more sore. Everything is throbbing, and he hurts. He doesn't like this, he doesn't. He doesn't understand why Theta is so mad, so irritated with him. He's been holding this in for so long, and the hurt, the sadness is curling up inside him, spreading across his chest, and making it hard to breathe.

His undoing is when Theta grips his hips tightly, and rocks into him just so-It sends a spike of pain up his spine, and he lets out a sob of pain, of hurt, of everything.

Theta shivers, leaning down to press a open mouthed kiss on his back. He cries out, biting on his lip-Trying to hold another sob in. He can't though, and just sobs freely, letting them wrack his body. That seems to spur Theta on, and he digs his fingers into his waist, causing bruises to form.

He can feel Theta wiggling into his mind, blanketing over him, and for a moment everything is peaceful. It's just him and Theta;connected; together. He loves this feeling. Being close in mind and body-It's exhilarating. It's reminds him back when they were on Gallifrey. Just the two of them.

Until the pain washes over him again. And it hurts even more. Because Theta is trying to make a point. A point that he can't understand. He can't take much more, really, and he's eternally grateful when Thete tells him to come-He does, with a shudder, and Theta comes right after him.

He's gathered in Theta's arms though-Which is unusual. He hadn't been doing that. Hasn't been touching him after. Not that he had any objections. He presses closer to him, despite how sore he is. He isn't even bitter. He's just…_confused_. Even if he was bitter-Where would he go? His only comfort source is the same place that has hurt him-and he doesn't mind.

He doesn't. Theta could use, and abuse him all he wanted. He was just happy to be with him. The only thing he's not sure of is his anger. Why was he so upset with him? Or was he upset with him? He couldn't tell anymore. Theta was quiet and sated, spreading his hand along down his back. The anger had dissipated from his limbs, and he's calm. Maybe, finally he's not mad at him. He at least can be happy about that.

But he doesn't know what else to feel about this.


End file.
